Completing 882 Race Miles in a Year, Representing 882 Americans Sexually Assaulted Every *Day*
Project 882
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first day of school
(little did I know
what was to come)
About a year and a ago ago some of my biggest, craziest dreams all came true at once:
Since I was a kid, I dreamt of working for Jon Stewart [NOT involved as a villain in this story, btw, let me make that SO clear up top. Just setting the scene of my beautiful life that was interrupted [but, we persevere!]].
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In addition to that, I have dreamed of going to this very prestigious musical-theater writing program in New York, also for a very long time. My favorite composer went there and developed a Tony-winning musical there, and even came back and taught some things to the advanced class sometimes. (And who wouldn't want to be trained where the artist they look up to trained? (After all, that's a humongous reason I went to Berklee - Quincy Jones, baby!... But that's for another time.))
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And, since I was in diapers, I've been talking about living in New York City. That has been the dream forever. (If you look back on my posts in my blog, you can see me talk about all those things throughout the years - New York, The Jon Stewart family, and the prestigious program (that I'm trying not to mention by name because that's where my perpetrator came from... But I mention it in plenty of other places, so it's not like it's all that secret, I guess *rolls eyes at self for still apparently having no idea to talk about all these things*). Sigh. Anyway...
Within the span of a few weeks, I got into that school program, and I got a job on (the Jon Stewart-produced) The Nightly Show - and both of those things happening at once meant *drumrooooooooll* I was moving to New York City!
And thank goodness gracious that because of my gorgeous wonderful job, I could even afford to live in midtown Manhattan. (What?! The suuuuuper dream is happening!)
(For anyone playing along at home, wondering - Jon Stewart was even more wonderful than I imagined, and Larry Wilmore was also a total delight. It truly was a dream come true...)
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Of course, just because it was a dream doesn't mean there weren't some mild struggles... I had zero notice to move. Literally. In my Nightly Show interview in New York (when I lived in California), they told me if I wanted the job I had to start the next day (and I LOVE them for giving me the chance (and that fun tidbit/story). Just because it was hectic does not mean it was bad - I would've muuuuch rather had a hectic move than them decide for me that it would've been too hard for me and then go with a New Yorker).
But I started a little behind. I was looking for an apartment, and flying to California on the weekends to get my stuff and say goodbye to people, trying to stay above water in school, and do well at my new semi-hectic job.
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It was stressful-ish, but a good, lovely stressful nonetheless...
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And then a guy from my school seemed so kind. He was like, "You're new to the city. Do you maybe need a friend?" And I did. If we're being real, as beautiful as it was, I was kinda barely keeping my head above water. So, to feel like somebody noticed that and cared... it was nice.
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Our friendship got pretty intense pretty fast. He quickly became the person I was closest to in New York. And that intense friendship quickly turned flirty. And then came something terrible.
I'm still not really sure how much I feel comfortable sharing, or how much is too much or too little and I'm sorry that I don't know exactly how to talk about it. But suffice it to say, the experience was horrific. I was completely unheard... It was surreal and bewildering... that I was crying and saying I didn't want to be touched, but it didn't stop anything. It was so isolating and confusing feeling like I was just saying things into the wind - like I literally couldn't be heard (even though he later confirmed he did hear me; he just ignored me). Things just spiraled so quickly that day. I'm not even sure what to say...
Sometimes I don't know what words to use... Some words don't seem to cover it... And sometimes I worry if I use too many synonyms of "awful," the words will lose their meaning, and the horror will just wiz right past our brains and ears and eyes and everything... Which, in some ways might actually be nice for me. I'd love to never be able to see that in my head again... Anyway, it was devastating.
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I tried to push through school, but after 30 nights in a row of crying myself to sleep when he wouldn't speak to me to explain why he did this, or if somehow he didn't hear me or he misunderstood [eventually, we had that convo and he didn't misunderstand; he just thought he knew better than me... thought he was "helping" me to get over someone I'd left in California], or if we could somehow be civil in a collaborative class that I did not want to leave but did not know how to stay after all this [side note: I had to quickly head to the bathroom and puke the next time I saw his face in class after the incident, so I'm not really super sure how I expected that "civility" we'll-somehow-get-along-or-something(?) attitude to work], I dropped out, deferring for two years until he was gone.
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All within the span of about a month, I found out our TV show was being cancelled, my landlord would not be allowing me to renew my lease, and it didn't seem safe to go back to school.
How did my gorgeous dream turn into a nightmare so quickly?
[For anyone worried, I've gotten an even better apartment and a wonderful job. Therapy is going well. And now we're running! So, please follow along and maybe give to one of the charities if you feel compelled :-).]
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And if you want to read about my experience more in-depth I am still trying to find ways to talk about it over on my blog.